Forever Weeks
by WooperPooper
Summary: From New Orleans to their current location Ponchatoula, the survivors make new plans to head back east. However, an occurrence happens during their trip that none of them expect.


**FOREVER WEEKS**

* * *

An evening had never felt so suffocating.

Sweat dripped from Coach's forehead underneath the night sky. His body ached from the rather unwanted, but necessary, running the group was cornered into today. The others looked equally tired, Ellis expressing his condition through unfinished stories while Nick put up a stiff front. Rochelle, on the other hand, acted normal, but Coach could tell by the slight angling of her gun she was fatigued.

"Everyone holding up okay?" Coach asked to the group. The last hour of trekking had consisted of heavy breathing and, occasionally, short sentences. Even Ellis had trouble keeping up a Keith anecdote.

"I'm doing just dandy. You know Ro, running in those shoes is pretty darn impressive. Are your feet okay?" Ellis managed a smile at Rochelle with a breathy voice. He was still recovering from the day's earlier incident.

"They are, no need to worry. Maybe we all should get new shoes after ours wear out. Just make sure your hat is safe. Don't want it flying off." She flicked its brim lightly. Approximately an hour or two ago, the group found themselves running from a tank and charger, but uphill. The beasts happened to trigger several car alarms along the way, attracting pools of infected behind them; they couldn't run downhill without guaranteed death. Awful is what it was. Ellis claimed the worst part was that his hat almost fell off during the catastrophe, as opposed to the steepness of their run.

"Thank goodness it didn't, I don't know what I'd do without it. We've been through a lot together," the mechanic smiled fondly.

"And you'll be going through even more shit together," Nick darkly chimed in, "but not now. Look, I think we can use this building for the night. Seems to be an old burger joint."

The group stopped to survey the store. Three stories high topped with an accessible roof, it most definitely qualified for a temporary safehouse. The upper stories were either apartments or one large living space. Chances were this was a family business at some point and they housed themselves above the restaurant.

Viewable from the street with their guns' flashlights, booths inside the store were torn up along with a chipped counter and broken bar stools. The state of the store accurately reflected the town's desolation; it was empty and dead, its abandonment evident from dust and cobwebs.

"It's a surprise to see unbroken windows," Ellis chirped as they entered the food joint. "Reminds me of a homely place that used to serve gumbo back in Savannah."

"Must have been a hole-in-the-wall sort of diner," Coach commented. He wiped a finger on the jukebox situated by some boxes testing it for dust. "A beauty at that."

"Judging a restaurant's quality by the music player they have? I've done that before." Nick chuckled as he closed the entrance's door. "This place seems as abandoned as a ghost town. Should I block up yet?"

"Not yet," Coach replied from behind the store's main counter. "I'll stay here with Ellis. You and Rochelle check upstairs. We're a holler away from each other and this place seems empty, so I think we're okay. But we got to be cautious," Coach reminded Nick as he checked various cabinets. The big man heartily smiled. "Mmm-mmm! They got good taste in mustard."

"Alright Coach. We'll be upstairs. Don't get too friendly with that mustard." Nick walked to the far end of the diner and tapped Rochelle, who was already at the end of a staircase, with the butt of his gun. "Lets go sweetheart."

"Think we'll find anything?" She asked as the pair entered the second floor.

"Have we ever?"

"Sometimes. I like to keep my hopes up."

"Well, we'll see." Nick glanced around. The stairs lead to an open area with couches, a table, and a cracked television screen. Walls were littered with various children's drawings, framed photos that ranged from posed family portraits featuring children to the same kids at war with one another, and random décor such as broken fish sculptures and chipped wood carvings. Two hallways extended out of the current space, both of which lead to more rooms. Nick rubbed his fingers against a wall. "It _would_ be a cozy little place if, you know, I was a fucking termite. Look at all this decaying wood."

"That's what happens when it's not taken care of, as if that was a choice. It's definitely one of the nicer places we've found," Rochelle responded as she examined some of the photos. One was of a choking customer surrounded by confused staff members. '_First Heimlich Maneuver Incident!'_ it read.

"You're right about that. Still doesn't excuse it from being a termite campsite."

"Lets look around. Maybe they'll have a stuffed alligator for you like at the fair," Rochelle snickered.

"Excuse me miss, but we don't speak of the alligator incident."

The two split their investigation. Nick would check one aisle while Rochelle inspected the other. She looked through the two rooms furthest away from the staircase. On her right-hand side was a wooden room hosting a worn out bed, but it flourished with action figures and dinky instruments. The closet had nothing but small clothes. There was nothing of interest that could help them. Rochelle looked in the room directly across from it. This room looked more modern, as the walls were painted a purple color at some point. There was a bed, a bookcase, stuffed animals, and, again, clothes. From the looks of it, this particular family had kids. She frowned at the thought. Children involved in the country's current setting couldn't have ended pleasantly.

Curious, she skimmed over the bookshelf. There were texts on animals, children's novels, and a shorter red book with the word "DIARY" written on its spine. Her hand hovered over it, hesitant on whether or not to breeze over the journal's pages.

_You're not investigating for a story; there's no need to read it_, Rochelle relayed to herself. She decided it would only decimate her wellbeing and abruptly left the room; it would be best to try and forget the finding.

She found Nick sitting on one of the sofas, his bag they found in a previous city strewn on the ottoman in front of him with his assault rifle. The conman patted next to him on the couch, signaling for Rochelle to join her.

"What'd you find?" He blandly asked, but Rochelle knew his tone wasn't because he didn't care, it was asked out of hopeless habit. They've searched numerous amounts of places before that lacked any outstanding results. The question became obligatory instead of hopeful.

"Both were kids' rooms," she started and sat to Nick's right, "so not much we could use."

"Ah," Nick nodded affirmatively, "this was a family business then. There's a master bedroom over there and a bathroom with shit-mold. I saw an attic too, but I don't even want to know what's in there. All I found were clothes and blankets. Nothing stood out?"

There really wasn't much. "Two beds and some stuffed animals."

"You're refraining from mentioning something. What is it?"

"One of the kids had a diary. Thought it would be best not to read it, or remember it at that."

Nick's eyes glazed over for a brief moment, the quick trance broken by a loud exhale. "Yeah. You shouldn't. _We_ shouldn't."

"I know. I'm not worried about myself."

"_Coach_," Nick groaned, confirming Rochelle's concern. "Look, we won't mention it, we won't move it. He's not one to go through those sorts of things. It's not in plain sight, is it?"

"Just in a bookcase. On the lower shelves, I think."

"That should be fine then."

The pair sat silently for a moment.

"We can only hope for their safety," Rochelle droned. She was sick of that saying, as applicable as it was during these times, but felt the need to mention it out of respect for the family.

"That's all we can do, and also _not_ talk about it." Nick extended his arms to rest them on the couch and craned his head back. "I am so _fucking_ tired."

"Same here," Rochelle agreed. She slung her backpack off and placed it with Nick's bag and extra guns on the ottoman. "Can't wait to get some rest. The building seems pretty secure."

"Seems like it. The third floor just has windows and a staircase, which leads up to the roof."

"We should be fine then since there're no adjacent buildings."

"Yeah," Nick confirmed. He rested his legs on the ottoman. "This town is as dead as a doornail."

"Weird we tend to be on our highest guard when places are least lively. We'll be able to get some rest today, hopefully _good_ rest," Rochelle sighed, her body faintly slinking back into the sofa.

Nick spat, "After the fucking bridge and walking and stopping for a whole week and a shit? Yeah, I could use a good night's rest."

Rochelle silently stared at the ottoman, at the guns she felt comfortable with and at the bags with their findings. They never carried the latter until now. _Now_ it was necessary.

"Sorry," Nick quickly mumbled. "I didn't mean to. I'm just bitter."

"It's alright."

"It just fucking sucks."

"Yeah…" Rochelle trailed off.

"It doesn't hurt to think about, but there's just a void. A blank in me, the _worst_ kind of pain." He crossed his arms, head still leaning back on the sofa, eyes locked with the vacant ceiling.

"We can only walk on."

"Yeah."

"Your little spiel right there, reminds me of our night talks. We'll talk at night again, like before the bridge." She smiled softly at Nick.

He cracked that slight grin Rochelle had grown familiar to. Only she seemed to recognize its existence, or its existence only revealed itself to her. That currently was an unsolved mystery. Nick leveled his head and shifted his gaze to Rochelle. "Just like old times. Can't believe we're considering memories 'old' that were months, or even weeks ago."

"Time seems painfully endless now, doesn't it?"

"Forever weeks, if you want to get fancy."

"Trying to be artistic Nick?"

"Yeah, Nick the artist. What a title. But you know what? Out of the time that's passed, there are only fragments I actually _want_ to remember."

"They all helped form who we are now."

"They definitely did."

"We'll figure something out eventually." Rochelle grabbed a map protruding from her backpack's side pocket. She rolled it open halfway revealing the east coast and Midwest areas of the country. "Where should we go though?"

"Somewhere not populated?"

"We'll head back from where we came," a deeper voice announced from behind. Stairs creaked and Coach and Ellis entered the living room. They both added their bags to the pile. "Ro girl, may I?" Coach held his hand out and switched gazes between the map and her.

She gave him the map. "Of course."

The group headed over to a modestly sized dinner table behind the couches and laid the chart out. Ellis put his pistols and two miniature flowerpots on the map's corners so the ends wouldn't curl. Coach cleared his throat and pointed to their current location. "Now, Ponchatoula ain't the most idealistic of places to be in."

"Coach and I were talkin' about this a teeny bit. So we're in Ponchatoula now, right?" Ellis pointed at the map. "If we're going to campout like Zo and them, this ain't a good spot."

"There's no food around here, no good or safe campout areas…" Rochelle nodded. "Ideally, we should be where we have a good eye on the place and have access to a fruitful food source. Well, as fruitful as being in a pandemic can get."

"Right," Coach pointed at another city far east of theirs. "Since this place doesn't have any of that, we should go back, but halfway. Now, hear me out. If we head back, but not _too_ far back, me and Ellis will be in familiar territory. That way if anything comes up, we won't have strayed too far from our starting point and we'll know where we are and where to go."

"Too far my ass," Nick groaned. "We better find a car again, although I could do without the gnome ending this time."

"His name was Gnome Chompski and he was the best little gnome there ever was. Rest in peace little guy," Ellis sniffled.

"Anyway," Coach shot a glare at the two men, "lets say we take this road here." He traced his finger along a route labeled with 22 in a circle. "It'll bring us straight to Madisonville. The town has a boat store there, so we can check for any working vehicles. If there are no cars, we can opt to the boat if there are boats. It's a small place, so I can't guarantee we'll find anything."

"We got awful lucky with finding the car in Liberty Mall," Nick mumbled.

"We'll be passing by an awful lot of cemeteries Coach. Spooky," Ellis commented.

"Yeah, real spooky. So spooky I bet there'll be zombie ghosts," Nick groaned with sarcasm.

"Don't joke 'bout ghosts Nick!"

"Boys," Ro firmly stated.

"They're extending fucking Halloween just for you Ellis."

"Oh! I do love me some Halloween. This one time Keith and I dressed up as each other for Halloween and-"

"Boys!" Rochelle crossed her arms. "You two can talk fashion later. Lets get this all sorted out."

"What Ro said," Coach continued his finger along the same road and transferred next to road marked _190_. "Unless we find a boat and sturdy gasoline supply, we'll have to go around a short bridge and follow route 190. Otherwise, we can sail along the coast to our destination."

"Which is?" Nick's hand made short circular motions, wanting an answer.

"After detouring around a few more bridges… here." Coach's finger passed through several bigger cities and a few bridges. He tapped a crinkled red dot. "The outskirts of the city of Mobile."

"Mobile?" Rochelle and Ellis questioned in unison.

"Ellis snorted, "Gee whiz Coach, I guess you could say we're on the run there. Hopefully the city won't be too!"

"That wasn't funny and you're not funny," Nick examined where Coach was pointing. "Mobile. You sure? That's pretty fucking far, not to mention it was a pretty populated city."

"Believe me. We all saw Mississippi. Total disaster. I'd rather be in a chaotic state that's closer to home. Me and Ellis will be able to direct us better in cases of emergencies."

"Sounds good to me. I do hope we find a car though," Rochelle crossed her arms in thought. "What about the weather?"

"The weather?"

"I know I haven't visited and only ever reported on the south, but just from that I've heard it gets cold. It's just about November now, which means winter is coming."

"Lady's got a point," Nick leaned against the wall, "We should get warmer clothes so we don't freeze to death."

"We can scope out clothes in the next city. We'll get there tomorrow, hopefully." Coach stretched his arms. "Now, about watch tonight."

"Me an' Coach rigged the door downstairs," Ellis proudly stated with a bright smile. "If someone, or some infected, manage to knock the door down and everything we packed it with, it'll trigger a fancy alarm that'll drop loud things. It'll wake up us."

"How's the top of the place look?" Coach asked.

Nick spoke up, "The 'roof' is only accessible to us. It's near impossible to get up there, but some of the infected could climb up. Shitheads."

"I'll keep watch," Rochelle volunteered. "I feel up for it."

"Alright. You can stay in this room since there's only one entry point for intruders. Just keep an eye on it. I'll get up after some shuteye to take over your place until we leave. That okay with you?" Coach asked.

"Definitely," the news producer smiled. "Coach, you get that bedroom over there." She pointed at the hallway Nick –who nodded at her with a "good job" expression- was inspecting earlier. "It has the biggest bed. Ellis can have one of the two rooms over there, or stay in the living room."

"I'll take the bed since I think we'll be okay tonight. Thanks Ro."

"You're welcome. Well, should we get to rest for the night?"

"Yeah!" Ellis threw a fist in the air. "Zombie Death Squad, disassemble!"

"Don't call us that," Nick groaned.

"G'night everyone!"

Ellis and Coach went to their respective rooms and Nick disappeared when Rochelle settled down in the couch area. This place was satisfyingly comfortable compared to other locations the group camped out at. It beat the swamps and sugar mill by a long run. Even if it the place was at one point someone else's, like every other safe house, they'd care for it as if it was their own. Temporary homes were still homes, after all.

Rochelle couldn't make out the stars from a series of small holes in the ceiling, but she trusted they were twinkling above the silent town free from the reign of infected. How peaceful.

Peaceful.

Peace.

The idea sounded foreign.

Rochelle lost track of time when Nick appeared from the dimly lit hallway. They found small lamps that emanated soft light.

"Hey Ro," he greeted.

"Yo Nick," Rochelle smiled. "Need something?"

"Sort of," he mumbled and scratched the back of his head while the other hand rested in his pocket. "Got time?"

"What?"

He hopped onto the couch next to her. "Thought you might want some company."

"Shouldn't you be getting some shut eye?"

"I'll just get some here."

"Okay then," she laughed quietly. "Late night talk then?"

"Late night talk."

"So… how about them pictures?" She pointed around the room. "It's kind of disorientating seeing them."

"Pictures?"

"Yep."

"Sometimes I forget cameras were a thing." Nick rested his elbow on the couch's arm. "A lot of things we used to use were completely abandoned. Cameras, casinos, trains…"

"Casinos? In the midst of a medical outbreak you think about _casinos_?" She stifled her laughter. "I don't think anyone I knew would've thought of that Half of them would've mentioned internet before casinos."

"Hey now," he grinned at her, "I spent a lot of time at casinos. Good way to get money."

"After everything else you've told me, I guess that was one of your 'safer' or more 'morally correct' methods."

"Amazing how much we've shared with each other." Nick smiled and rested his hand on his knuckles.

"Nothing like the night, right?"

"Right."

"You guys stayin' up?" Ellis rubbed his eyes as he entered the living room.

"Nick here is giving me company."

"D'aw! Why don't you ever give me or Coach company?"

"Because you smell now go away," Nick groaned. He covered his face with his hand. The mechanic plopped down on the other couch, looking as amused as ever.

"So, you guys telling scary stories or something?"

"Yeah, this one's about a mechanic who wouldn't shut-up even in death. His carcass just went on and on."

"Nick," Rochelle asserted, "that's not a very good scary story."

"Yeah man! I got a good one" Ellis clapped his hands a couple times and cleared his throat. "One time, there was this old hamburger factory. There were happy hamburger patties being made everyday. But one by one, the seemingly infinite flabs of meat began to disappear. Then, one day, there was one last patty. A worker was looking at it, when suddenly…"

"Boo!" Coach boomed from behind the jumping trio. He laughed. "Haven't done that in ages."

"Damnit Coach," Nick laughed. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"Shouldn't' all of ya'll?" He joined Ellis on the couch, looking pleased with his jump-scare. It had been awhile since he heard horror stories, if Ellis's counted as one.

"Maybe we can get an early start tomorrow," Rochelle suggested. "Or a late start, since we're all up."

"Lets do an early start. We seem to be all up." Everyone nodded.

Coach grabbed a lantern to put on the ottoman so the room was better lit, allowing a warmer atmosphere while they all ate various foods they gathered in Ponchatoula. The group happily talked about past ventures, memories they all thought they'd never have the opportunity to talk about again with anyone. There was no end zone or destination where they'd split up now. After the bridge, this was all they had left. This was going to become the festering treasure in their hearts for the duration of however long they'd be together. For once in a long time, they felt at home.

* * *

_Thanks for reading! This is based off of my friend **meta's** dream, so main story credits go to them. This will be multi-chaptered. Also people are singing opera outside. Mysterious. _

_-tofu_


End file.
